The Improbable One
by ntc
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has a fan- one whose pastime doesn't result in a body count for a change.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Sherlock Holmes has a fan- one whose pastime doesn't result in a body count for a change.

**A/N: **Once again I have to resort to fic-writing to shake off my obsession. This story is the result. Some spoilers for 'A Study In Pink'.

**The Improbable One**

**A Sherlock Fanfiction by ntc**

* * *

_Comments posted on the personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson:_

of course if i was sherlock's colleague we would have solved the case much earlier. how could you not realise the suitcase would be pink?

**theimprobableone** 07 February 15:26

Who the hell are you! ? ? ! And what kind of name is that! ? !

**Harry Watson** 07 February 15:30

xXxXxXx

His fists itched every time Sergeant Sally Donovan sneered the word 'freak' right in Sherlock's face. But it was the word 'psychopath' from Anderson from forensics that actually made him want to pick up the closest heavy object and bludgeon the weasel-faced man.

He never acted on his impulses though. He knew that it would mean a quick death to his career prospects in the police force, and his late father would be undoubtedly disappointed in him for doing violence to the fairer sex, no matter how said member of fairer sex deserved it. However, he was sure even his father would be hard-pressed to find any redeeming qualities in a man like Anderson, and so he allowed himself the luxury of fantasizing about what he could do to the man. In a locked room. With a set of brass knuckles. Or a good, stout stick. He was not picky.

Sadly, he also knew that it was all impotent fuming on his part. He felt like a coward when he allowed the insults go unchallenged again and again. The insults burned him, perhaps even more than Sherlock himself, for he had not mastered Sherlock's ability to completely disregard what other people thought about him. He felt the need to become outraged on Sherlock's behalf, for the simple reason that Sherlock did not. People like Donovan and Anderson often mistook Sherlock's lack of reaction as a sign that he didn't have any _feelings_ to hurt, and they became even more vicious in their verbal jabs in a perverse attempt to provoke a human reaction out of him.

What they didn't realize was that Sherlock's bland expression in the face of cruel and petty taunts was the result of concentration, his thoughts running at inhuman speeds, picking up what appeared at first glance to be trifle clues and linking them deftly to reveal an embarrassing truth that would serve in his arsenal of retaliation.

"I'm sure Sally came over to have a nice little chat and just happened to stay over." A smirk accompanied the killing blow. "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."

The accusations hung in the air like a heavy cloud and for a brief moment he almost pitied Anderson, who had visibly paled and looked as if he was about to be sick. _Adultery and sex with a co-worker_. All deduced from the scent of deodorant.

Brilliant.

He was reminded again what had attracted him to Sherlock in the first place, and why he had made it his life's goal to become a detective inspector who would be worthy to work side by side with him one day.

* * *

**A/N: **I admit this is too short for a story, or even a chapter of a story. After I gather enough confidence to churn out more back story (what with my zero experience in writing crime stories and my lack of knowledge about London in general), this ficlet would then serve as a prologue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** Sherlock Holmes has a fan- one whose pastime doesn't result in a body count for a change.

**A/N: **I've tried to write this story in the third person POV, but it just doesn't work for some reason. Now that I've decided to write it in the dreaded first person POV, my only hope is that I haven't failed too terribly.

**The Improbable One**

**A Sherlock Fanfiction by ntc**

* * *

i'm an expert on sherlock holmes. i understand him which is something someone like you would never do.

**theimprobableone** 07 February 15:32

At least I understand how to use CAPITAL LETTERS! ! ! !

**Harry Watson** 07 February 15:43

xXxXxXx

Okay, so I lied. It is probably a tad shameless of me to claim to be an expert on Sherlock Holmes, but the annoying git named Harry Watson (no doubt some male relative of the blogger who shares the same surname) was really getting on my nerves with his disrespectful tone. Hysterical, excitable and loud-mouthed (judging from the excessive use of the exclamation mark). It's almost as if this net fiend is a woman masquerading as a man.

But I digress.

Before I launch into my memoirs about how I came to know the enigma that is Sherlock Holmes, I should probably explain my reasons for doing so. My decision to write this is prompted, in part, by the existence of a certain blog by a certain doctor with the initials JHW, who so happened to be Sherlock's new flat mate. The way he went on about it, you'd think that Sherlock only started solving crimes when JHW entered his life.

Wrong!

There's a reason why Sherlock's name was never mentioned in any of the previous cases that the CID had consulted him on. There's a reason why his face and his name had not been mentioned in the news or the papers despite having single-handedly solved so many cases that had baffled Scotland Yard's finest. Sherlock wanted it that way. I suspect that his scary brother also played a part in ensuring that Sherlock continued to live in obscurity, and hence, safety.

Which brings me to the issue at hand- What the hell had possessed JHW to publicize Sherlock in such a spectacular fashion? As if exposing Sherlock's name wasn't bad enough, JHW had even posted a photograph of Sherlock on his blog page, with a note addressed to the 'Criminals of London' to make sure that they could identify Sherlock correctly. Ugh! It made me want to desperately acquire some computer-hacking skills and shut his stupid website down.

Seriously, does he _want_ to get Sherlock killed? Because that's what it looks like to me. He might as well paint a bloody target sign on Sherlock's back and send him to the bloody enemy frontlines of the bloody Afghanistan war and be done with it! Does he not know that Sherlock often had to mingle with the denizens of London's criminal underworld in the line of his work? Sherlock is exceptionally talented in the arts of disguise and subterfuge, but still! And for what purpose had he jeopardized Sherlock's life and work so carelessly? Just so that he wouldn't be mistaken for Sherlock Holmes and get kidnapped and threatened by international assassins for a second time? Wimp! If JHW couldn't handle the risks associated with being Sherlock's colleague, then he should move over and let someone else more qualified fill his shoes.

Yes, I noticed that I'm probably the only person getting so worked up over this. Sherlock himself was only interested in criticising JHW's failure to focus on the analytical reasoning aspects in his written cases. There is no concern at all over how those blog entries might endanger his life. This isn't surprising, as anyone who's more than a fleeting acquaintance of Sherlock Holmes would know that he has all the self-preservation instincts of a suicidal lemming. No, really. He doesn't avoid danger. He actively seeks it. He thrives on it. I can't fault Sherlock for not caring about his own safety, but I expect more from the person deemed to be Sherlock's colleague.

Someone once told me that Sherlock Holmes doesn't need friends. What he needs is a keeper. I strive to be both to this brilliant and eccentric detective one day. Before that day comes, I could only hope that this JHW character doesn't botch up the job of keeping Sherlock alive.

S_ H_ Jr.

* * *

**A/N:** My muse is not cooperating, so this fic is taking shape very, very slowly. I'm still trying to find the voice of the narrator of the story. Any feedback is welcomed.


End file.
